snapshot: garlicky whole wheat egg noodles with an olive oil fried egg

sometimes you just want something 

quick and satisfying, a dinner that 

yields a greater gift

than you feel you deserve for the work

you put into it. this bowl of pasta is it.

simply saute a ton of 

finely chopped garlic (i used about 6 cloves), 

a generous squeeze of anchovy paste

and a healthy sprinkling of red pepper flakes

in olive oil on low for at least 10 minutes,

stirring often to prevent burning. 

squeeze in the juice of a large lemon.

add about 1/2 pound 

al dente whole wheat egg noodles, 

a few splashes of the pasta's cooking water 

and a handful of grated parm

to the garlic mixture.

stir until pasta is well coated.

transfer pasta to bowls.

meanwhile, fry a couple eggs 

in a small amount of 

olive oil that has been heated

with a clove or two of quartered garlic,

until whites are just set and 

yolks are still quite runny.

top each bowl with one egg, 

let each person mix their own

and enjoy.

bbe: a sandwich place

i'm not the kind of girl

who likes roast beef or ham, or really, 

even turkey.

i think roasted red peppers are

just ok and i'm so-so on 

grilled chicken. 

mayonnaise, in excess,

or simply spread on the bread,

freaks me out.

i am, as you can imagine,

a ton of fun in a deli.

i do, however, love the idea 

of lunch and the concept of a really

good sandwich, like ones that involve

large grilled shrimp,

perfectly ripe slices of avocado

or crumbled creamy salty feta.

in high school, i imagined myself

opening a coffee shop. 

one that was 

eclectic and homey with 

large overstuffed armchairs, 

scattered amongst 

scuffed wooden straight backs 

and wicker seats that boasted 

layers of chipped paint.

there would be really huge non-matching mugs 

for coffee and tea - 

perfect for the customers who came 

in the morning

and never left,

too busy reading a book 

or chatting with a friend.

then, a couple weeks into college,

my roommate and i walked into deja brew. 

it was exactly what i imagined for my shop,

intimate 

and quirky 

and safe,

quiet, with an easy-going atmosphere.

it was...

me.

for four years, i loved this place, with 

its striped and polka dot mugs,

that i sipped from while

eating lunch with friends,

during creative writing classes (the professor's choice!),

project meetings and 

for those times that i just needed

to be alone.

now, i still imagine that store-front:

the lines a little cleaner,

the furniture with slight connection,

but the quiet quirkiness, the same.

oh, and for years, i've pictured it,

no longer a coffee shop, but instead 

bbe:

a sandwich place.

because i have to believe that there

are others 

who are not crazy about

ham or roast beef, 

and who really crave sandwiches

that are not easy to find,

that are culinary achievements

in their own right 

(ok, maybe that last part is a bit

of a reach).

but, you get the point.

fancy, yet unpretentious,

amazingly delectable

and creative sandwiches.

that's what bbe -

named for brooke, blair and erin, 

me and my sisters -

would be about.

so, when faced with a fresh jar

of preserved meyer lemons and an

unexplainable lack of interest in tagines,

(at least for now, anyway),

i knew that a sandwich was 

in the works.

in my preserved lemon research,

i found a few items 

involving tuna

and since i haven't had 

a tuna sandwich

in a very long time, 

it sounded perfect.

i remembered a recipe that i once saw involving

tuna and an olive spread 

and instantly craved the combination.

sharp finely chopped red onions,

briny capers and a 

country loaf of whole wheat sourdough 

rounded out the deal.

i was a little nervous - would the lemons

pack such a flavorful punch

that everything else would be overshadowed?

would they blend in, 

never to be heard from again?

would the whole thing be boring? 

too salty?

no, no, no and no.

rustic at its best, 

slightly imperfect, 

not so gorgeous

and bursting with 

interesting ingredients,

this is definitely one of those

recipes in which the 

sum is greater than its parts.

sure the kalamata-based spread is good,

really good, actually,

and the tuna mixture serves its purpose -

it's blended with juice from a non-preserved

lemon to ensure that 

the flavor is bright

and then drizzled with 

red wine vinegar for 

extra acidity, 

a trick i learned when working

at a pizzeria many years ago.

and the toasted slices 

of thick-cut bread,

are ok.

at best, someone might call them common -

it's fine, i can take it.

 

but when layered together,

and the lemony tuna 

meets garlicky roughly pureed olives

on slightly crunchy bread,

the results, i think, are bbe-worthy.

tuna with preserved lemons and olive spread on sourdough 

tapenade or olive spread is readily available in local stores. i have a great recipe that i will share soon, but if you are unable to find a container and you're in the market for something to spread on your bread, toss a large handful of pitted kalamata olives in a mini food processor with a spoonful of mustard, a clove or two of garlic, a few dashes of cayenne pepper and a small drizzle of olive oil. as for the mayonnaise - i've mentioned, it's not my favorite. so i've only used enough to make sure that the ingredients are bound together and creamy - feel free to go up and down depending on your level of love for the condiment. and, if this sandwich is missing something, i think it's greens - watercress, i believe would be unforgettable - in between the tuna and the top layer of bread. if you have any laying around, toss them on, too.

this recipe makes about two large sandwiches, with some tuna left over to add to a green salad the next day. or, you can build them on regular toasted sandwich bread - you'll get at least enough for four this way. 

4 slices bread cut from center of whole wheat sourdough loaf OR 8 slices bread from regular loaf

2 Tbs. finely chopped red onion

3 wedges preserved meyer lemon, pulp scraped from rind, both chopped

1 Tbs. salt-packed capers, rinsed, drained and dried

1/4 cup low-fat mayo

1/2 large non-preserved lemon, juiced

2 cans (6 oz. each) albacore tuna in spring water, drained well

1/3 cup olive spread

red wine vinegar

lightly toast bread. meanwhile, in bowl, combine red onion, meyer lemon rind, capers and mayo; stir in chopped pulp and lemon juice. add tuna; stir just until combined. season with freshly cracked black pepper.

place bread on work surface; divide olive spread among bread slices. divide tuna mixture. drizzle with red wine vinegar to taste (you can be liberal with the vinegar, within reason, here). top with remaining slices of bread; halve sandwiches.

worth the wait

the end of the 2008

and the beginning

of 2009

have made for

a rather gloomy

new jersey 

winter.

right now it's grey,

looming somewhere between

light snow and

heavy rain.

this follows the tease of

a couple pretty days,

but mostly

mornings and 

nights 

battling snow:

brushing off the car

and shoveling out spots

every morning on 

the way to work

and 

every evening on the way

home, both of which 

are only meant to

prepare you for

risky, scary, wintry

drives.

once home,

all you want to do is 

change into 

pajamas,

dive under the covers

with a mug of

tea

or 

hot chocolate

and cross your fingers 

that someone broke

into your house while

you were gone

to make a hot pot

of stew.

or maybe that's just me.

on one of these days,

cranky from

frozen fingers and toes,

and the snow plow that

had gotten dangerously

close to me

(not my car, me)

in the parking lot,

i walked into the 

supermarket and 

saw a sea of 

gorgeous

smooth, 

shiny

and 

bright yellow

meyer lemons.

there were so many

and they were so pretty

and cheerful

and even though i was

without a plan,

i bought four. they were

my only purchase and

when i ran through 

the parking lot,

i clutched them against

my chest

until i got into the car

and promised myself

to make something uplifting.

when i got home,

i kicked off my slush-covered

sneakers

and ran for the computer, 

looking for the recipe 

that called out to me.

meyer lemons, unlike their common

extremely tart and bitter relatives -

lemons, as we know them -

are bursting with floral notes

and have balanced their acidity

with sweetness, which

in some circles

makes them 

reminiscent of

oranges, and perfect

for desserts. 

they don't stick around for

long. their season is fleeting,

so when i saw them,

i knew i should make something

special. i tossed around

the idea of 

a budino,

or a mousse

or curd,

before realizing that i had

nothing going on

in my life

that required sweets

to be made.

and, then, 

i saw a recipe,

that before i even clicked 

on, i knew would be the 

winner:

preserved meyer lemons.

i loved that by saving them

in a jar,

i could enjoy the slivers

year-round,

that they could be

used for savory dishes

and, that

i could always 

look at

bright yellow

lemons,

when things got

too grey

outside.

the only problem?

i only had four.

the recipe called for 10-12.

i waited patiently and crossed

my fingers for 3 days that they 

would still be there when

i returned to the store. they were.

then, i realized that i didn't actually

have a jar with a tight fitting lid.

jars, when you can't

get to a craft store

right away,

are surprisingly hard to find.

so, i stared at them on my counter,

talked to them,

pleaded with them to not go 

bad before i had the

jar,

opportunity

and 

time

to toss them into a pot of

boiling water

and bury

them in mountains

of coarse salt.

a week later,

i set to work early

in the morning with

coffee in hand, expecting 

a tedious task.

it was surprisingly easy.

i boiled six of the lemons

while juicing the other ones.

when they were cool,

i cut the fruits into 8ths, 

removed the seeds

tossed them with salt,

packed the wedges into 

a jar, covered them 

with juice

and then reality set

in.

i had to wait even longer

to enjoy them. only

five days, if i'm being 

honest, but i've never been

especially good

at waiting it out.

when i was younger,

i always opted for the 

one-hour photo 

after a big event 

and refused 

to leave the store 

until the pictures

were in my hand, 

and even then,

i inspected each one in 

the checkout line. 

my senior year

was torture, a daily parade 

of mailbox checking, in

search of college

acceptances.

and every week,

i become legitimately

upset when i realize

that i have to wait

7 more days 

before finding out

the next quickfire on

top chef,

or what's really

happening to izzy

on grey's anatomy.

so five days felt like 

a lot. because, in spite

of lacking a certain

amount of patience,

i'm not a cheater.

in spite of the temptation

to open the jar each

day, and taste one,

i worried more that 

it was wrong and that 

one slip of oxygen

would ruin the whole

batch. and in spite

of wanting to 

taste one

every day,

i worried that they would

ultimately be delicious, and i would

regret the five 

progress-taste tests

because it would mean

five less wedges to use

throughout the year

if i loved them.

when the time was up,

i did nibble on a wedge.

the thin rind, was tender,

the flavor of the whole thing

sweet and salty

and slightly, just slightly,

spicy.

the result, was 

undoubtedly lemon-like,

but so much more.

with one bite, i could 

imagine

adding them to 

dish

after dish

as my secret ingredient.

i resisted the

urge to "try" another,

and instead,

poured in a splash of

olive oil 

and

tightened the lid.

i couldn't wait to play. 

preserved meyer lemons

if you cannot find meyer lemons, you can still preserve the traditional ones. also, make sure that you have extra lemons ready if need be. in spite of using a jar that was one cup smaller than should be, i still didn't have quite enough to pack tightly (as is best) or enough juice to cover. i did have traditonal lemons, so i used some of their juice to make up the difference. also, don't worry if the salt seems to settle for the first day or two. thanks to the soaking and the once-a-day-shake, it all absorbs and evens out.

3 lbs. meyer lemons (about 12), divided

2/3 cup coarse salt

1/4 cup olive oil

5 cup jar with a tight fitting lid

bring pot of water to a boil; add 6 lemons. when cool enough to handle, cut each lemon into 8 wedges; using sharp knife, remove seeds. place salt in bowl; add lemon wedges and toss to coat. pack lemons into jar.

meanwhile, squeeze enough juice from remaining lemons to measure 1 cup. add enough juice to jar to cover lemons. cover jar with lid, making sure it is on tightly. shake jar once a day for five days. pour olive oil into jar. cover tightly with lid. store in fridge for up to one year.

why i cool my cakes like this (and other ways to make cheesecake-baking less stressful)

yes, in the end, 

my first go 

at the 

hazelnut chocolate chunk cheesecake 

was a success. 

but in the years that followed, i

worked hard 

to make sure that

i wouldn't collapse 

of anxiety, 

at the mere sight of

my springform pan.

here are my

sanity-savers.

1) husking the hazelnuts

if you've ever tried to get the skin off of the hazelnuts, chances are, you never wanted to do it again. i did. but, then i learned to jump start the process by spritzing the whole nuts with a very small amount of water, before toasting them. once they come out of the oven, cover immediately with a small clean kitchen towel and let sit until cool enough to handle. then, wrap a bunch in the kitchen towel and rub back and forth between the palms of your hands. next, just pluck the cleaned nuts from the towel, dump the skins and start over. the water and towel both help to slightly steam and loosen the skins, making them much easier to remove.

2) knowing when to say when

the above method makes husking hazelnuts a million times easier. that being said, sometimes, some of the skin is never going to budge. don't spend all night fighting it - especially when used for things like crusts and crumbles - it will be fine. just move onto the next nut. you can't save them all.

3) chopping nuts in the food processor

a lot of recipes instruct to chop nuts by hand rather than tossing them into a food processor for one simple reason: under the blade, they can go from chopped to butter in the blink of an eye. the best way to prevent this is to toss some granulated sugar in with the nuts before pulsing. the sugar creates friction that makes it just that much harder for the oily little devils to completely break down. luckily, the crust in this birthday recipe called for 2 Tbs. sugar; i saved a step by combining them, above.

4) preventing the cracks ahead of time

cheesecakes are notorious for cracking. stop cracks in their tracks, by providing a mock water bath for the cake. instead of fussing with tightly wrapping the pan with foil and crossing your fingers that the water you've set your confection in, doesn't seep into the crust, simply fill a 9 x 13 pan with hot water. just before baking, set it on the lower rack in the oven; place the cheesecake on the center rack above it. the moisture from the water will still waft up and help prevent rifts in the cream cheese-based filling, even without direct submersion.

5) preventing and fixing the cracks after baking

once the cheesecake is finished baking (it will appear set around the edges, but still be slightly jiggly in the center), immediately pull it from the oven. run a very sharp knife around the edge to separate the cake and the edge of the pan. this prevents after-the-fact-cracking that can occur as the cheesecake cools. often this happens because, the cake shrinks slightly toward the center, but the edges are stuck to the pan and unable to contract with it. enter: round cracks. twice, my cheesecake has cracked in a circle, i've separated it anyway and come back an hour later to a completely closed up cake. it really works. 

6) easy cool-down

dramatic temperature changes - going from a smoking hot oven to a cool kitchen can be rather traumatic for a delicate (yet hardy) baked good. help the cheesecake make an easier adjustment by placing the pan (after completing number 4), back in the now off oven. use a wooden spoon to prop the door open and let it rest for 1 hour. then, transfer the pan to a cooling rack and let it cool completely.

7) final cooling

a lot of people have great, sturdy and well-elevated cooling racks. i don't. it's a shame, those racks, help the cakes cool faster and because air can circulate around them better, they cool upward as well,  preventing crusts and bottoms from becoming soggy. but, i refuse to let a so-so rack sabotage all the above work. so, i recreate the scenario by propping it up on overturned glasses (top picture). works like a charm.

8) adding liquid to melted chocolate

chocolate, even in its simplest-don't-have-to-temper-form, is finicky. a drop of water is enough to harden a melted batch. so, can you imagine trying to add a tablespoon of liqueur for the topping? not fun. instead, melt the chocolate (either in small increments in the microwave or the double boiler) with the liqueur, making sure to stir often. much easier. also, when it's time to add the sour cream, stir in a tablespoon first (instead of the whole quarter cup) and make sure to incorporate thoroughly before adding the rest.